


Ruby

by abDraconis1381



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Uses His Words, Everyone is pack, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Off-screen pet death, Pre-Slash, Some Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 12:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abDraconis1381/pseuds/abDraconis1381
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek notices that Stiles isn't himself and goes to check up on him. Suddenly his duties as alpha just got a lot more complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ruby

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to Ruby, Prince, and Rikku.

Derek has always been observant; a product of inborn werewolf senses and a need to keep them sharp in what was apparently supernatural central, USA. He took stock of small changes in scents around town that indicated a new creature in their territory. He saw the small twitches of recognition on faces that marked new hunters before they could get a jump on the pack. Derek, for all his ability take account of these minor shifts in his environment, could certainly see when one of his pack was off their game. Especially when said pack member was an annoying human who normally couldn’t keep his mouth closed for more than three seconds at a time. Changes in that particular quality could catch anyone’s attention.

An hour and a half: that was how long their pack meeting had been. In that entire time, Stiles never said a word outside of an empty greeting and a mumbled apology for taking off so fast after they were dismissed. He couldn’t really put a finger on it, but it had Derek on edge. It wasn’t that he missed the constant chatter so much as it was he disliked the change; the alteration of something that had become comforting in its normalcy. Stiles and his endless myriad of questions was a part of his routine just like Scott’s idiotic plans and sickeningly sweet hero complex was. The entire pack was his routine, and Stiles wasn’t playing his part. 

If it hadn’t been for how fast he took off when the meeting was over, Derek might not have caught how strange Stiles was acting. Normally, Stiles was the first one there and the last one to leave. It had taken the teen a while before he felt comfortable enough being alone with Derek that he would stay without some sort of witness around. Eventually, it got easier to be alone together. Stiles didn’t jump every time Derek moved too fast and Derek stopped with the threats of bodily harm…mostly. They had eventually reached a point where Stiles could talk and Derek would just listen, not contributing much of his own other than a nodding head or a few incredulous looks. 

And Derek kind of looked forward to it. There was something peaceful about it, if anything Stiles did could be associated with peace. 

After everyone had disbursed for the night, Derek got in his Camaro and followed the path Stiles had just taken to his home. If he needed a reason, then checking up on the well being of his pack member was sufficient enough. His job description practically demanded that he seek Stiles out, Derek reasoned with himself. He would be damned if Stiles made a bad alpha out of him. 

Derek drove up to the house with his headlights off, being as discrete as possible. Apparently the Sheriff had gotten a call one night about a man climbing into his son’s window, a night when Derek had been in a hurry and wasn’t as diligent as he normally was when he sought Stiles out for something. The way Stiles told it, he had tried to explain it all away as Scott really needing to get in and the door, for some reason, just wasn’t an option. There was an extraordinarily awkward conversation with his dad after that, as Derek understood it. The only thing he overheard when Stiles was telling Scott about it was Stiles saying “I told him I could be!” 

The house was quiet, Stiles’ dad presumably at work. Stiles was in his room, but it was quiet. The monologue that usually ran under his breath as his thoughts flew freely out of his mind was strangely absent. With no way to tell what he was doing but clearly seeing the unusual behavior continuing at home, Derek left his car and worked his way up to the window he had gone through so many times. It was unlocked, and he stepped though with ease. There was a time when Stiles threatened to cover his window sill with mountain ash to keep his unwanted visitors in check. This was more prevalent around the time Derek was always throwing around threats of harm to Stiles’ throat via his teeth. They at least had more respect for each other than that now. 

Stiles was sitting at his desk, looking at nothing in particular. He didn’t acknowledge Derek’s presence, another oddity to add to the list. To somebody who didn’t know him, Stiles probably looked calm and at peace. Derek knew better; being this quiet and reserved meant he was shutting down and more on edge. Honestly, Derek didn’t know how to start, thinking a plan probably would have been a boon at this point. Stiles was always the one to initiate conversation and, without that ignition from someone else, Derek was suddenly reminded of how bad he was at this. 

“You’re quiet.” Blunt, to the point, and of course laced with his usual accusatory tone. ‘Way to use your words, Derek,’ he thought to himself. He suddenly wanted to bang his head against the nearest flat surface, hard. Why did this have to be so difficult? He could talk to his pack for hours when they were gathered together. 

Scratch that, he could talk _at_ his pack for hours. As in have one way conversations. Apparently there was a difference. 

“Go away, Derek.” He still didn’t look up, choosing to ignore his alpha who was, admittedly, bad at social interaction. If one thing could be said about Derek, it was that he didn’t like being ignored, least of all by his pack.

“Seriously Stiles, I’m just doing my job. Now, I need you to look at me and tell me whether or not you’re okay so I can go home.” Derek’s tone escalated into pissed off territory more quickly than he would have liked, reminding him that as much as things have changed between the two, Stiles could still get under his skin in less than a few seconds. 

“Go fuck yourself,” Stiles spat, his own temper rising. He looked up at Derek, a heat rising in his eyes as his unexpressed emotions hit a boiling point. Derek leaned in low with a growl, matching Stiles’ gaze with a glare of his own. Stiles started to look away with a huff, but Derek grabbed his chin with a firm grip, forcing eyes contact to beat his point home. 

“Watch the way you talk to me,” Derek warned in a menacing tone, his anger starting to bubble out of control. “You want to play wolf; run with the pack? Then you better act the part and know your place.” He waited for Stiles to pull back, turn his head away and give control of the situation back to Derek. Stiles was defiant on a good day but this was new. This was insolence, and it didn’t look good on Stiles

“Back the fuck off!” Stiles pushed hard on Derek’s chest, succeeding in moving him back multiple steps out of sheer surprise at the ever rising temper coming from the human. “In fact, get the fuck away from me, leave me the fuck alone and get the fuck out of my house. Fuck!” Every second of the rant drove Derek closer to his breaking point. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to make Stiles submit. It was all he could do to keep his thoughts from bleeding into his actions, knowing that in reality anything he did to the human would end badly. He wished heartily that he was dealing with one of the wolves, having the pleasure of knowing their own instincts would be screaming at them just as loudly to give their alpha what he wanted. He wasn’t with one of the wolves though, he was with Stiles. Stiles, who he had promised himself he would never hurt. This was someone he swore to protect, even if he never said it out loud. Clearly his first tactic at this had failed miserably if he had even considered hurting someone so important to the pack.

‘Use your fucking words, Derek.’ That voice had sounded suspiciously like stiles in his head.

Derek was about to respond, with what he didn’t know, when a small squeak broke through the room. It must have been loud enough for Stiles to hear too, because his face crumbled almost instantly and he dropped to the floor beside his bed, Derek’s presence all but forgotten. Stiles’ attention was wholly on the small animal in the cage that Derek had failed to notice was there.

Realistically, Derek knew that Stiles had a pet from the time he was hiding out in the room while on the run from the police. The smell of another creature living in the small space was hard to miss, but Derek never paid it any attention. It wasn’t of consequence to him and Stiles never mentioned it. Now, standing over Stiles’ shoulder, he saw for the first time a little ferret, and it didn’t look well. It was the first time he had seen one in person, never having the need or desire for a pet of his own. It had a long body, but it was thin, perhaps too much so. The fur looked to be all white, but a closer look revealed some tinges of gray. It looked like if it curled up, it could easily fit in the palm of Stiles’ hand without any problem. 

"Hey, little Ruby, how are you feeling baby girl?" Stiles was speaking softly and with affection Derek had never heard from him before. It would have been sweet except for the pain behind the gentle words. “Do you want to try eating again?” Stiles picked up a small syringe that had the needle removed, leaving a larger opening at the end of the plunger. He placed the end gently in Ruby’s mouth and pushed down gently to release the contents in small amounts. Derek caught the scent of chicken as the cream colored paste moved into the ferret’s mouth. She tried to lap at the chicken paste a few times, her energy giving out after only a few licks and falling back onto the towels she was using as a bed. She didn’t spare the offered food another look as she closed her beady black eyes once again.

The shift in the air was immediate and it hit Derek hard. The desperation and despair was coming off of Stiles in waves. As much as his better judgment told him to leave and allow Stiles to grieve in peace, his protective instinct won out, the urge to take care of his own stronger since he started taking care of his pack the way he should. For the first time in recent memory, Derek reached a hand out to someone in comfort. Instead of flinching away like he expected, Stiles simply allowed it, even beginning to lean into the touch. Still not knowing how to handle a silent Stiles, he tried to speak again.

“Who is she?”

“Ruby,” he answered, hardly even a whisper. “My mom gave her to me before…” He didn’t need to finish the thought, Derek clearly understanding the significance. “I’ve had her since then. Dad pretends I don’t have her. One, because she’s technically an illegal pet in California and I don’t think he has the heart to take her away. Two, because I think it hurts him to know that she’s here because of mom. He doesn’t like those reminders to be all around him.”

Derek could understand that. Sometimes it was just damn hard to see the physical reminders of someone you lost; better to keep the memories in your mind and out of sight. He continued to watch Stiles lightly pet the deteriorating animal he held so closely to his heart. While her diminutive size could easily be chalked up to her being a female, she looked sunken in. The parts of her flesh that weren’t covered by fur looked far too white, lacking any color. Noticing her fur, Derek could also see areas that were clearly thinner than others. She was curled up loosely on a collection of towels that Stiles had placed in a central location by a bowl of water, looking stale and untouched. She was by a pan of cat litter, looking just as unused at the water. She was covered in her own mess, what little of it that there was, unable to make even a few steps to take care of nature’s call.

“What’s wrong with her?” Derek found himself asking, not knowing if it was the best thing to say. Stiles seemed unfazed, and answered him.

“She’s anemic. In a lot of cases it can be a death sentence for ferrets. There was a time when she could have been helped, but…” but Stiles didn’t catch it, Derek thought. How often has Stiles even been at home lately? A pang of guilt struck Derek, knowing that a lot of what had kept Stiles away had been the person standing in his room, trying to comfort him at that moment. More than likely, it would have come down to a matter of cost too. It would have taken money that Stiles didn’t have, especially for an illegal pet. 

“Stiles,” he began slowly, trying to channel any and all of his ancestors who actually had some measure of tact to keep him from saying then wrong thing. “Do you think it might be time to consider letting her go?” Thankfully, there wasn’t an explosion of expletives and threats from Stiles, so he must have said something right. Or, more likely, he managed to avoid saying something completely wrong.

“Of course I have. It’s not that easy though. Do you know how much it costs to deal with the…ending part?” He looked up at Derek, the first time since their explosive argument moments before, and continued. “Okay, so it’s not that much, but its’ still more than I have right now. I can’t do it.”

“I think Deaton would be more than willing to help out. He is kind of a nice connection to have for this.”

“I can’t do it,” was all stiles said before returning his attention to Ruby. Derek watched, frustrated by his helplessness in this situation. He was sticking by his convictions; Stiles was pack and that made his problems Derek’s problems. Stiles couldn’t do what he needed to do on his own, so it was Derek’s time to step up and take care of it.

“Give her to me.”

“What?”

“Hand her to me. I’ll do it.” Stiles watched him, realization slowly dawning on him.

“I can’t.”

“I know you can’t. That’s why I’m going to.” Stiles was shaking his head, slowly, but building in intensity until his whole body was shaking with uncontrolled tremors. In a rare moment, Stiles was breaking down in front of someone else. It hurt Derek to see it when he was usually so well kept together.

“I can’t! I can’t just let her go. If I let her go, then I’m failing all over again. I shouldn’t be here figuring out the best way to get rid of her, I should be…I should be.” He was quiet for some time, and Derek let him stay that way. Once again, had it not been for the enhanced hearing, he would have missed it when Stiles finally spoke again, whispering “I should be trying to save her this time.”  
A crushing pause weighed down on them. Ruby’s slow deterioration into this state suddenly meant a lot more to Derek. History had repeated itself when nobody was looking. How long had Stiles been like this? He couldn’t have gotten this badly attached to the last bits of his ferret’s life in an instant. How long had Derek missed the signs of Stiles’ own descent?

“It isn’t your job to save her life, Stiles. It’s your job to live your life for her.” Stiles looked ready to argue, but Derek didn’t give him a chance. “I know that doesn’t make a difference," he said sharply. "It’s a shitty thing to hear and nothing is better just because you did. And before you say anything, no, I don’t take that advice and apply it to my own messed up life. I hate it when people say that to me. But do you want to know something that I hate more than anything? The fact that it is one hundred percent true. There is not a god dammed thing we could have done!” The last part came out at a yell, emotions pent up for years making a rare escape. Derek schooled his features once again, using the years of practice at his disposal. 

There wasn't a sound for a long time. Neither one was willing to break the silence. Stiles made the first move, going to the cage and tenderly lifting Ruby out of her towels. He whispered in her ear while holding her close, Derek trying his hardest not to intrude on the moment. He stood and moved towards the window to wait, allowing the two a final moment. Stiles came over to Derek, unsteady in his movements with Ruby wrapped in a clean towel. He handed her over slowly, looking like it was his greatest wish to pull her back and never let her go.

“What are you going to do?” He asked, holding his sobs down but clearly losing his grip the longer this was drawn out.

“You don’t want to know.” Stiles said nothing, a silent agreement, and turned away. Derek moved from the room as fast as he could, taking care to keep Ruby safe and tucked into his body. He walked as quickly as he dared and made his way into the woods. He didn’t want to go far; feeling like it was Ruby’s place to be near Stiles when she went. Stiles didn’t need to see this though.  
When he was the right distance away from the house, out of direct sight but not so far, he pulled Ruby up to get a last look at her. She used what little energy she had left to look at Derek, appraising him with curiosity. He got a good look at her eyes, the moon providing more than enough illumination. Eyes that he thought were pure black at first had a glint of red behind them. It was like looking at the photo of someone who had the slightest tinges of red eye from the flash.  
She saw Derek unflinchingly for what he was and welcomed the absolution he was bringing her.

“Hi, Ruby. I swear I’ll take care of him. You have my word.” She closed her eyes for the last time.

***

It was over an hour before Derek walked back into Stiles room. For perhaps the first time, he had used the door. Stiles was still exactly where Derek left him. He looked up at the sound of Derek returning, taking in the sight of his empty arms with a harsh exhale.

“Come with me,” Derek said before Stiles had a chance to lose whatever control he had regained over his emotions. He hesitated, deciding to get up and followed Derek out of his house and into the woods. Derek stopped, lifting his arm to urge Stiles on a few feet more. Stiles walked up to the rock that Derek had placed a short time ago. Derek was sure he was squinting at the rock, looking at the word that he had so carefully carved with one of his claws. It simply said “Ruby,” and that was all Stiles needed to see. 

Stiles didn’t cry, maybe not able to anymore. But his shoulders slumped. This was the finality that he desperately needed and was so afraid of. Derek could sense the emotions: hurt, sadness, some anger, all things staples of a person experiencing grief. It was the relief, small as it was, that told him that Stiles would be alright. Maybe it wouldn’t be immediate, but he would find his way out of this hole. 

Derek had done that; given Stiles something that he hadn’t had a few hours ago. Maybe they would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is dedicated to my three ferrets, two of which passed from anemia complications and one who suffered a severe seizure. Ruby in the fic is based on all three of them and this is my way of dealing with our most recent passing, Rikku. 
> 
> This was my first time writing for Teen Wolf and I hope my portrayal of Derek and Stiles in this situation meets everyone's hopes. I needed some positivity to grasp onto here so I decided that I would have everyone as one happy pack some time in the near future to ground the fic. 
> 
> Any comments are always appreciated, for compliments and criticism.


End file.
